


I am as pure as the colour white

by TerryFoolery



Category: Beautiful Liar - VIXX LR (Music Video)
Genre: Gen, wontaek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 19:28:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14677866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerryFoolery/pseuds/TerryFoolery
Summary: [Were you in my position, what would you do?]In which Wonshik struggles to have compassion





	I am as pure as the colour white

My hands stopped rambling on my keyboard when I heard that noise, again.  
It was but a sorrowful screech, excessed with pain and misfortune, toxic to the ear and torturing for the heart. And it came not once—twice, thrice…—I heard the sound echoing the lonely evening, the Sun like amber decorating the sky.  
A cat? I thought. And wondered why anyone would do such harm to the creature, so inhumanely it let out such sound.  
But I could do nothing. I did not even know where it was from. So all I did was pray. Pray, with all my aching soul, for the poor creature, no matter where it was, to be safe.

 

Two or three times it happened in a sole month, so the fourth time it happened, I decided to turn off my computer screen where I was composing my songs, grabbed my keys, my phone, a flashlight, and a baseball bat—just in case anything happen.

 

I stormed out of my house realising the screech had silenced and I knew of no place to go look for it. 

 

I stood there at my threshold recalling the direction I last heard the creature. A part of me started to regret the idea but before I could consider going back upstairs my legs were taking me towards my memories. Pass my own yards I walked, my fences flashed fast like frames after frames in front of a movie projector, the concrete little road felt unreal under my feet and shoes as I started running for no reason, my eyes looking left and right, scanning every corner, bush and grass field there could possibly be the poor creature. My ears had never been so focused on hearing a sound—they were even more focused than when I tried to compose a musical piece. I heard my footsteps, I heard my breathe, I heard my clothes twitching, I heard my thoughts scattering around in chaos.

 

I heard a cat.

 

It was such a petite, broken “meow” and I immediately caught in the corner of my eyes a furry creature, black as onyx, laying down vulnerably near a dense bush, around a hundred metre or two from my house. It was still breathing.

 

The wounds appear to be a bite. Strong, intimidating, almost brutal—this little one had some good dodge, however not enough to avoid the strike. Maybe it was chased by a dog and was seeking safety in the bush though it was not fast enough. A stain of blood was visible and I immediately felt sorry for the little one. It was funny I started to want to apologise, though no word escaped my mouth.

 

My first instinct was a pause. Inexperience, I observed for what could be done to relieve the pain, then I picked up the wounded cat, as tenderly and carefully as I could, and intended it stays with me at least for tonight.

 

I am back in my studio, with the cat now sleeping in an improvised nest made of unused pillow and an old towel. The silent purrs seems soothing for no reason, and I can’t help but stare at the him for some time, at his peaceful gesture.

 

He does resemble a cat I used to have. 

 

He was, similarly, black as onyx, quiet, calm, slow, vulnerable, but fought until the end. His end. It was an evening when the Sun was setting, by the beach waves were humming, singing along with the pale, golden sand. We were there. I observed him playing. I heard my voice, his voice, his gesture dancing along with the darkness that roamed the sky, his dark hair waltzing with the wind, I looked into his eyes and he into mine, and we played in a rather aggressive manner before the waves took him away.

 

The waves took Leo away from me.

 

“Why did you save me, Wonshik?” The soft voice questions, now sitting on my sofa with the pillow on his back and an old towel covering most of his torso and legs. “You chased me, hurt me, wounded me, you even pushed me away, left me drowning.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“But you brought me back, again.” His voice sounds like a soft purr. “Why?”

 

“Because we’re the same person.” I answered, not looking away from my screen. “We can’t be separated.”

 

“Liar.” The word is as much offensive as how quite it is. “You didn’t even need me.”

 

“I do.”

 

“You only saved me because you felt guilty, because you felt pitiful of me. Because you, even if you don’t want to give a shit, you didn’t want to seem like a cruel one leaving me alone to rot.”

 

“I do need you, Taekwoon.”

 

“You only saved me so you can feel a little less bad about yourself. We can’t be separated? You liar! You’ve always wanted to be the one and only! But you won’t be satisfied, because you, your pure self, is cruel and brutal as a hound!” 

 

That soft voice cracks.

 

“I’m tired.” My heart cracks. “I’m tired of this. You should just let me go. Become the one and only. I’ll be fine stepping out of this arena. I don’t have the strength to fight anymore. I’ll let you win, once and for all. And don’t bother saving me from the waves ever again. I will reunite with peace, the waves, the amber Sun, the golden sand, the waltzing wind, and the sky. I will be gone, and I say it here, once and for all.”

 

Then he got up. I knew because I heard the old towel slipping down the floor. I fought the urge to stop him, beg him to come live together again. Then I heard the door closed. And I never saw Taekwoon ever again.

 

I hear a sharp screech again, fifth time in a sole month if I recall. I sigh and put my favourite pair of headphones over my ears and focus on my composition.

 

Titled: “Beautiful Liar”

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: emotional rant ahead.
> 
> I have to say, Wonshik (in this story, obviously) and I share the same pain and reluctance. Somehow dogs, cats, even birds, keep dying—hit by cars, most the time—in my neighbourhood and that disturbs me real much, both the deaths and the fact that I did what Wonshik did at the end. Here goes my confession.
> 
> What about you, though? It may seem an obvious, moralistic answer but I'm just interested as to whether anyone shares this feeling. Would you leave the cat to reunite with peace or will you bring it back to the chaotic world?


End file.
